Tempest Light
by Eien
Summary: A light through the storm. Draco and Harry form a bond through many obstacles, but not without the help of friendship and love. D/H mild slash.
1. Unreachable Light

A/N Don't need a disclaimer, do I? Oh well, just this once, Harry Potter not mine 

T_T and warning, will be Harry/Draco (two guys! Gasp!) ^^

****

Chapter One: Unreachable Light

The brilliantly red mist once again surrounded him, swirling around and around. 

His head pounded –he was falling, in all directions at once, floating as nausea permeated 

his system. And then Harry's face appeared, his blazing eyes piercing through the bloody 

haze.

Draco Malfoy snapped his eyes open, immediately feeling the damp, seeping chill 

of the dungeons hit him full force. _Gods, Harry again_.

Harry again. Even in his dreams, always Harry Potter. Ever since he was young, it was 

hate Harry Potter. At Hogwarts, beat Harry Potter, watch, no, spy on, Harry Potter. And 

now, he had gone and fallen –no, not love. It was not love, had not yet developed into 

love, but it was a bond. Deeper than he could fathom, he felt it. A gentle yet definite 

tugging, insistent, towards Harry.

Madame Malkins, before knowing who it was, he had felt something at the 

moment locked eyes with Harry. Something like a block sliding into place, something –a 

string unraveling, spinning out. And over time, this connection only grew.

Draco sat up, giving an involuntary shudder, and gazed at the small, silvered pool 

of moonlight spilling out onto the floor. Watched, but could not have, could not touch or 

be a part of that ethereal light. It was like watching Harry, the discarded mission to watch 

becoming so much more. Harry, that beam, that pillar of light, extraordinary, beautiful, 

unreachable and untouchable.

Yet, that wasn't exactly true, in a physical sense. Draco –no, not touching his 

soul, or his person – but a superficial mockery of it. It wasn't much, but Draco would 

take all he could, to feel Harry's skin, even if it was only to trip an ankle, to shove Harry 

aside, to fight. It was the only way Draco could feel Harry's eyes on him, even if those 

darkly accusing eyes stared in irritation. Draco would gain Harry's attention in the only 

way Harry would let him, by taunting him. It was the only way Draco could get his 

attention, to get an emotion –an emotion! –out of Harry, directed at him. And the price it 

was, on the rare occasion when the hurt would flash across Harry's face, quickly replaced 

by anger and that dreaded hate, Harry's hate that settled over Draco like an anvil, 

weighting him down, smothering.

Draco wrenched his eyes from the entrancing light and his thoughts from Harry's 

hatred, painful to consider. His dorm mates were still asleep –thankfully, they had finally 

mastered the silencing spell to quiet their snores. He threw himself back down on his bed 

and stared wide-eyed, emptily, absentmindedly at the top of his canopied bed, tired, yet 

not wanting to sleep. Could not sleep? Perhaps he just did not want to bother trying.

With a small growl, he decided to go somewhere else. It was becoming a habit of 

his, but the night was so undemanding, unlike everything else. It was silent, quiet, calm. 

And Draco liked solitude, as well as the feeling of false freedom the night brought, 

prowling the corridors in of stillness.


	2. Clouding Storms

A/N Mutter… phone line died… mutter… I am lazy… mutter… thanks a lot Oriental Empress for reviewing! Huggles!

****

Chapter Two: Clouding Storms

Stormy gray skies threatened above as Harry Potter finally turned and glared into 

a pair of stormy gray eyes.

Fell. Into entrancing, silver eyes.

Harry growled quietly, dangerously, snapping himself out of the spell, that 

weakness. "For the last time, Malfoy, shove off."

"Aw, how sweet. Wonder Boy defends his little mudblood-" the cutting voice was 

knocked off when Harry slammed the other boy into the wall.

"Harry!" Hermione cried out, struggling to restrain a furious Ron.

Harry ignored her as he focused on Malfoy, almost shaking, with more emotions 

than he should have felt. Glared with silent threats, burning with fury, with unspoken 

feeling. Hating Malfoy for the hate that challenged him back, with a smirk and that cool 

defiance, fully knowing he would win.

"What are you going to do, Potter? Too chicken, are you? Too chicken to stand up 

for your precious girlfriend?"

Harry burned. "Forget this. You're not worth it. Heartless bastard." Hissed. The 

bitter words slipped out.

Malfoy didn't move, but his eyes changed, imperceptively, unnoticed by Harry. 

But as suddenly as the pain had surprisingly manifested, the gates slammed again. Ice 

glinted in the silent eyes that followed Harry's lingering glare.

Harry tore himself away from Malfoy. With a look at the other two Gryffindors, 

the three of them left together.

"Wow!! What did you say to him, Harry? I couldn't really see because Hermione 

was in the way, but Ferret boy shut up just like that!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look, as she glanced at Harry –he had an odd 

look on his face. "You should've ignored him, Harry."

"He called you a mudblood!" Ron said.

"It doesn't matter, I don't care. Do you want to get in trouble?" she finished 

pointedly, although touched by his indignation.

"But Hermione!"

A small smile forced it's way onto Harry's face at that one, but soon disappeared.

__

I hate Malfoy. I hate him, I hate everything about him.

"Harry?"

__

I don't love him. I don't love him at all.

They entered the Great Hall for dinner.

***

Harry checked the hallway for people as he stepped out of the portrait hole. The 

dozing Fat Lady swung back into place between the perpetually burning wall candles. 

Unable to sleep, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak closer to himself and padded down 

the corridor.

He had happily lost himself in the brilliantly lit Great Hall, and had completely 

forgotten his uneasiness in the warm comradeship of the Common Room afterwards, but 

once the school had gone to sleep, his uneasiness had returned with a vengeance.

A huge window in the wall ahead let in the meager, foggy light that blanketed the 

corridor. Harry felt assimilated into the darkness, resting his eyes in the fuzzy black and 

blue gray. A gaze through the window revealed a high view of the autumn of the castle 

grounds when Harry slowly wandered past it.

He lifted his head tiredly. Why were the skies still so damn stormy? It was as if a 

day of forbidding cloudiness and rain wasn't enough. There were no moon or stars out 

that night. The clouds swirled with the black night; the sky was low and still thundered 

sullenly. Usually, Harry really didn't mind storms, but today, they made him feel 

strangely empty and unsettled. Something was bothering him, but what was it?

And so Harry wandered aimlessly through the school, in contemplation and 

reviewing his thoughts and his day that day.

How could he have let Malfoy get to him? How could he have responded? He had

completely lost control. And Malfoy had triumphed. Even with Hermione quietly 

repeating "keep going, you guys, keep going", holding Ron's fist. But after that comment 

about Hermione… Harry shook his head with shame, berating himself for the fault, 

berating himself for revealing his anger to Malfoy, which was exactly what he knew 

Malfoy wanted. Malfoy wanted them to respond, damn it, why did he do it? He sounded 

so… so.. "heartless bastard" –why did he say that? He sounded so weak! _But why is this _

bothering me so much? No, it can't be that. This shouldn't bother me this much. It's only 

Malfoy. I hate him. He hates me. I shouldn't bloody care!

***

Draco drowned alone in his deep envy of Granger and Weasley. It wasn't because 

of who they were –Draco didn't give a damn about Voldemort. Draco didn't care if 

Granger was Muggle-born, or if Weasley was poor. It wasn't as if he would exactly loved 

them or even barely liked them, but Lucius and Voldemort were ridiculous. Draco wasn't 

about to commit his life as a Death Eater to something so –so pointless. Something that 

just killed people, that broke up relationships, for Draco believed in them so much, even 

himself having none of worth, no true ones to speak of, he thought ironically. But these 

Gryffindors, they had nothing, no fortune, no power, but they had everything. They had 

friends, loved ones, and they had Harry. Oh, to only be friends with Harry!

Close to Harry, with that ease and understanding between them. What could have 

brought those three so close? And the support, the confidence in each other, how they 

protected and helped each other, unconditionally giving. Every time he saw them 

together, the envy stirred again. He had watched them laugh together in the Great Hall 

that evening, just as he had watched the three through the halls and in their classes 

together for so long. Or rather, just as he had watched Harry.

That –Harry's label of him –it had hurt, that first strike had hurt more than he 

could hide. Now it pulsed, in his mind, releasing waves of pain and doubt each time. 

Could it be true –was it true, that he was just a cold, heartless bastard? Of course he acted 

like it to the school, but gods, was it true? Insulting the depressed, cruelly mocking the 

upset. And not caring –gods! Coming from Harry, it struck the bone.

Yet Draco, in his own way, felt that he had deserved it. It was harder and harder 

to get Harry's attention now, filling Draco with almost a sense of loss. After all his 

shouted taunts today about Harry, about his ruined potion today, about Harry's parents, it 

was only after Draco had mentioned Granger – Granger! –that Harry had responded. 

Harry. Harry, Harry… Draco focused his eyes back on the confused clouds outside.


End file.
